Nowhere To Run
by The Jesteress
Summary: There is only two things Leo knows for sure. One, his pain is his fault. Two, there is always nowhere to run. But that doesn't stop him. Pre-Wilderness Leo-centric fic. Please review!


Nowhere To Run

**A/N: This is a little Leo-centric thing I wrote for an English assessment, got A* for this because I'm fabulous. Don't even try to tell me otherwise. It's pretty angst, set while Leo was on the run from his last foster home.**

**I don't own Leo; he is the fictional child of Rick Riordan. I own the police officer though. He is mine. All mine.**

The streets were toxic at this time of night. They always were in the big cities like Boston. Any of the seemingly unassuming faces passing you by could be the last you'll see as the cold bullet slams into your gut. The gunshot would ring then you're nothing more than a horror story in the local news.

But Leo knew the rules. He'd learned young to live as a shadow, or be killed by one, and he was a survivor so he chose life. He's not sure why, he's got nothing too live for after all, but every time he was given the choice, he chose to keep breathing, and breathing hard. That's life when you're constantly running.

The street was totally desolate aside from Leo Valdez, his presence adding a personal spark to the blank emptiness and grime. He hummed a little tune to himself as he peeled back the skin of the banana and munched contently on the literal fruit of his labour (and by labour, his means crime). It's not often he got to feed his all too scrawny self with foods as healthy as fruit, so it was greatly appreciated.

"Dad, look…" Leo looked over to the entrance of the alley curiously to see a girl a little younger than him gripping her father's jacket and pointing at Leo.

Rude.

"Come on, Cassie, it's just a homeless boy," the man replied (as though Leo couldn't hear), putting his smartly and probably expensively dressed arm around the small girls thin shoulders and steering her away, out of Leo's sight. He wasn't surprised, he probably looked a mess with his unsightly mass of black curls tumbling everywhere, likely obscuring his whiskey brown eyes with it length, just a little too long, and Leo was judging _himself _for his unfortunate fashion choices. Covered in grime and mud, making his already tanned Latino skin darker, he was totally unsurprised that every passer by turned their heads away in disgust.  
It didn't make him hate them any less.

Leo rose from his sitting position on the grimy (and probably diseased) floor and dumped the banana peel at his feet, giving the rats a good snack.

"Time to go Valdez," he whispered to himself, running a hand through the untameable curls as he made his way towards the alley entrance. It must have been around midnight, dark clouds obscuring the night-time sky, but Leo's sense of time had improved greatly recently. He glanced down the street, avoiding the scattered few people who dared wander the streets at this time of night, and he set off once more.

'_Keep moving.'  
'Stay ahead of the pain.'  
'Don't slow down, Valdez.'_

Honestly it seemed that no matter how far or how fat he went, he still couldn't outrun his memories. The flames licking his hands with demented affection, the muffled screams of his mother, the vibrant cursing of his aunt, the cruel smiles… They haunted his nights and twisted his days. What he'd done, what others had done to him… He couldn't outrun them. But by god, he could damn well try. Without realising it, he had stopped dead in the street, staring at his ripped and torn shoes angrily.  
Esperenza Valdez didn't deserve to die.

In his short 15 years of life, Leo has seen many things, met many people, and all of those people deserved their meeting with the angels far more than Esperenza Valdez. She didn't need to meet them. She was an angel herself, but now she was gone.

"_And it's all your fault," _a dark voice hissed in his mind. He kicked a loose stone.

"_You deserved everything you got."_

Maybe. He chose to be here. He ran from all 6 of those 'American Dream' foster families, he back chatted the police… His pain was his entire fault. He could outrun them, maybe, but himself? How can anyone outrun themselves?

"VALDEZ!"

Leo jumped violently, not even bothering to turn around to see who was addressing him so rudely. Whoever knew his name was trouble, and probably wanted him dead or locked away. He pushed off into a run, feet pounding on the grey streets, breaking the surface of once stagnant puddles as he ran. As he weaved his way through the streets, his ADHD mind wondered. What sort of self-respecting person spends their days chasing 15 year olds? He casually slipped into a lonely alley once more, ducking behind a garbage bin, mind still harbouring confused thoughts of the guy on his tail.

"THIS IS THE LAST STRAW, LEO," his low, thundering voice echoed, "YOU'RE GOING TO JUVIE."

Leo cursed his easily distracted brain for not noticing the detective's demeaning presence.

"Are you kidding? Please tell me you're kidding," Leo pleaded as the cold metals of handcuffs were clipped tightlyto his skinny wrists. Detective Wilson was a man Leo knew well. The man gave a harsh guffaw.

"You honestly expect me to send you to _another _home? Nobody else will take you, Leo! You're a problem child. The world stops having sympathy after a while."

Leo stayed quiet. He knew Wilson was right, a kid like him wasn't wanted anywhere.

He dragged his feet as he was escorted to the police car, Wilson giving a sigh as he put Leo in the back seat. He leaned against the door and stared at Leo.

"Look, I pulled some strings on this one. They wanted to send you to some pre-prison jailhouse for nutjob kids in Chicago, where all the real nasties go, but you're a bright kid, Leo. I've seen what you can do with your hands."

Leo looked down at his slender yet dirty fingers, a sour taste in his mouth as he remembered his mother's words, _"clean hands, dirty equipment, Mijo."  
_He looked up at Wilson.

"Yeah, I'm kind of a genius." Wilson ignored his comment, having heard it all too many times.

"You're going to the Wilderness School in Nevada. Good place, good teaching, a lot of troubled teens. I really wanna see you in a good place, Valdez, really." Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Okaaaay, Dr Phil, good pep talk. Do they pay you extra for that?" he sassed, receiving a cold blue glare in reply, which then softened unexpectedly.

"Don't be difficult." He shut the car door and got into the front.

"Also, it's in the middle of a desert, nothing for miles. Nowhere to run this time."

Leo laughed sharply.

They don't get it, do they? There's always nowhere to run.

But that doesn't stop him.

**A/N: Review please, thank. Have day.**


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